


I'm Past Patiently Waiting

by fuckyourbaguettes



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, F/F, F/M, Gay John Laurens, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Marquis de Lafayette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8784634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyourbaguettes/pseuds/fuckyourbaguettes
Summary: When Alexander Hamilton joins a new school, he is nervous about what the future holds in store. He had always had problems keeping his mouth shut, and authority figures had never really had much hold over him. He decides to try to keep to himself and lay low this year. That is, until he runs into the most freckled face he has ever laid his eyes on.-----John Laurens isn't very excited about starting a new school year. He couldn't really get into it like his friends could. But when the new kid has to present his poem to the class, John finds that school may not be so bad after all.





	1. Who the hell are you?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work and I am really nervous to post it. This is literally the first fanfic I have ever written. I have finally gotten the guts to post it on here. The title may change at some point, and i am not sure how often i will be able to update, so be prepared.

“"It’s hard to believe that Dr. King is really even human. He seems more like one of God’s angels, sent down to lead his people out of our modern-day Egypt. His voice is more beautiful than Heaven’s chorus as he speaks to us of paradise. But, when you look into his eyes, you can see, as if for the first time, you can see. You can see that he has walked hundreds of miles in our shoes; he has stood through hurricanes in our place. He knows what it feels like to struggle in the mud that we were so ungraciously thrown into.

With every punctuation of his words, I feel lightning travel through my spine. I hear his voice, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise like the Lamb of God from his tomb. I feel chills as his cadence wraps itself around my mind, around my heart, giving them a gentle squeeze, like an old friend. He speaks of brotherhood, and, for the first time, I am not one, but many. “We cannot walk alone,” he says. “And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back.”

His every syllable is a feather accumulating on my back into a pair of wings. I can feel the weight being lifted off of my shoulders as I am taught, like a young bird, to fly. His speech creates in me the strength to rise up off of my knees and stand with my arms outstretched and my head held high. “I have a dream,” he says to us, his flock. “I have a dream today.” He tells us of his dream, his dream of justice and freedom, of hope and love, and of deliverance. He tells us of his dream and he ignites in my chest a flame. Through his dream, I dream as well. Through his dream, I am set free.”"

\- - -

The class sat in stunned silence for a few moments. Whispers floated from one desk to the next. 'Who was this boy?' one would ask. 'Where did he come from?' another would reply. Nobody seemed to know the origin of the child with the beautiful words that stood in front of them at that moment. Hell, none of them thought that a person as young or quiet as he had always been should be able to mold such languid speech. The assignment was to take Doctor Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech and write a diary entry about what it meant to them. It was supposed to be simple; an easy A. Yet, this child had taken one of the most renowned and inspirational speeches in the history of America, and turned it into something… new. Something that nobody could replicate.

The boy looked around at his classmates, a light blush rising on his cheeks at their complete lack of sound. They had been rowdy and loud as he walked up to the front of the class to read his work, but by the end of it, it was almost like they were in a trance. The boy knew that, with this work of poetry, he had just set himself apart from the rest of the students that sat before him. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, he had yet to figure out.

Right at that moment, the bell rang, releasing the class from their stupor. The boy rushed to his seat and threw his books into his dirty, second-hand backpack. In a flurry, he was out of the door and racing to his next class, too caught up in his own head to notice the boy calling out for him until he had practically run into the most freckled face he had ever seen. The stranger reached out and touched his shoulder, causing the smaller of the two to jump.

“Woah there, friend,” the freckled boy smiled, and the world around the smaller boy seemed to melt away. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” The smaller boy looked at him like a deer in headlights, but quickly regained some of his lost posture and composure. “I was just… that was some speech you gave the class,” the boy continued. “I just wanted to ask… who the hell are you?”

The smaller boy offered the tiniest of smirks. “The name’s Hamilton. Alexander Hamilton,” Alexander backed up slowly. “And there’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait.” With that, Alexander turned around and took off, the crowd of high schoolers swallowing him whole.


	2. Creole Bastard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John fawns over Alexander.  
> Hamilton gets into a bit of an argument.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize ahead of time. I did use slurs for gay and whatnot. i am very sorry, and mean no disrespect, seeing as how i, too, am gay as hell. i just needed to use them to... well, you'll see. 
> 
> Also, TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY. THIS IS WONDERFUL. but dont get used to it. it probably wont last. And, besides, this is a relatively short chapter as well. but dont worry, the next one should be longer. :)

“No, you guys don’t understand,” John said to his friends. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see him.” The boy was trying to stress the fact that the new kid, this Alexander Hamilton, was, in fact, a gift from the gods. 

“No, mon ami. We understand perfectly,” Lafayette replied, their French accent making the words flow, as if they were connected, like cursive. “You are infatuated with the new kid.” 

“No, Laf,” said the other boy that was standing by John. He was average height, but muscular and looked pretty intimidating. “John is in loooooove.” Hercules started poking John in the side, making the freckle-faced, curly-haired boy blush. 

“You guys, it’s not like that. It’s just…” John couldn’t think of the right words. How could you describe something that is beyond any explanation in the English language? “He was just so… He sounded so passionate, like he really believed in what he wrote. He made the rest of us look like elementary kids.” John thought for a moment. “He had this beautiful brown hair that went down to his shoulders and tan skin and his eyes, oh my god, his eyes. It was like looking at milk chocolate and gold and the happiest memory you could think of. And when he was reading, they burned with fire and passion and it was just so… UUGGHHH,” John couldn’t say it quite right. He felt like he wasn’t doing justice to the beautiful boy in his class. 

“You’re right, Herc,” he heard Laf say. “He’s madly in love.” 

“You guys suck,” John sighed. 

“Really, Laurens? WE suck? We’ve only been listening to you go on and on for the past hour about the new kid. ‘and his eyes, oh my god, hIS EYES,” Hercules said, mocking his freckled friend, to which the boy merely smacked his arm. “Hey, I’m just calling it how I see it.”

“Then you obviously need glasses, jackass. I am not in-“ John suddenly stopped, staring at the front door of the cafeteria, where he could see a large crowd beginning to form. “Guys, look.” He pointed to the group of students by the lunchroom. “Do you know what’s going on?” He asked, only to find that his friends had already begun making their way to join the crowd. “God damn you two,” John cursed, getting up and jogging to his friends. That was when he heard a familiar voice from the front of the crowd. 

“Why should two men not be allowed to prove their love to each other through marriage, might I ask? What is so wrong with that?” John looked up to see Alexander Hamilton facing off against none other than the biggest jerk of the school, Thomas Jefferson, and one of his lackeys, Samuel Seabury. John felt worried, but smiled nonetheless. Alexander seemed to be holding his own. 

“Thomas, let’s just go,” John heard Seabury say. “It’s impossible to argue with stupid.” But John could tell that Jefferson would not be discouraged so easily. And neither, it seemed, would Alexander. 

“Don’t modulate the key then not debate with me,” the shorter boy called out. “If you believe in your argument enough to start a fight about it, then defend yourself.” 

“Well, if only to see you running with your tail between your legs,” Jefferson spoke haughtily, swishing his long purple coat around. “Technically, you fags are allowed to get married.”

“Ohhh, no. Same-sex couples are legally allowed to enter into civil union partnership, but that isn’t nearly the same thing as marriage,” Alexander raised his voice and puffed out his chest and, honestly, John was a little blown away at how scrappy the shorter boy was. “The financial, medical, and social rights that are associated with marriage are denied to these couples.” 

“Why should those things matter if the fags are married? Isn’t the point of marriage to simply be seen in the eyes of the law as bonded?” Jefferson retorted, trying to keep up with the loud-mouthed boy, but it was clear that he was on his last leg. 

Alexander scoffed. “If I was legally married to a man and he got into a car accident, I would not be able to cover him with my insurance. I would not be able to help him, and he could end up permanently hurt, or worse, all because the law wouldn’t allow me to extend my hand to the person I loved,” Alexander crossed his arms. “Honestly, think about your arguments before you throw them at my feet.”

“So quick-witted,” Jefferson scowled.

“Alas, I admit it,” Alexander shot back. 

“Your parents must be so proud,” Jefferson smirked. “Oh wait, I forgot,” he smirked. “You don’t have any, creole bastard-” 

Alexander’s reaction was so fast that no one could have stopped him, even if they wanted to. In just a few seconds, he was straddling Jefferson on the ground, throwing punches at the boy as fast as his fists could fly. Jefferson was yelling for help, but nobody was making a move to offer assistance, everyone shocked at the ferocity of the small boy. Between punches, he could be heard yelling things into Jefferson’s face. 

“Don’t. You. Ever. Talk. About. My. Parents. Again,” each word was punctuated by a fist to the gut, the chest, the face. Suddenly, there was a commotion at the back of the crowd that seemed to shake the kids out of their daze. The crowd started roaring as John pushed his way towards Alexander, followed closely by Hercules and Lafayette. They reached him just as more of Jefferson’s groupies did. Together, they pulled the two boys apart, working harder as they heard someone say that Washington was on his way. They had almost fled the scene completely when a deep voice boomed behind them. 

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? MR. BURR, GET THE NURSE FOR MR. JEFFERSON,” Washington, the principal of the school, said to the student that had raced to get his help, Aaron Burr. 

“Yes sir,” Aaron replied, rushing over to Jefferson. 

Washington looked around, but by the time he had scanned the area, the entire courtyard was all but empty. Sighing, the large man followed after Burr as he escorted Jefferson and his posse to the school nurse. He could tell he was in for one hell of a year.


	3. 50 shades of moral ambiguity grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The y face the aftermath of the fight; John blushes alot; Lafayette is an innocent little baguette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly don't know what the title of the chapter has to do with this chapter. It was just something that i read on tumblr that really made me laugh. I wanted to share it with everyone.

John, Lafayette, Hercules, and Alexander were still running by the time they made it to the other side of the school campus, the three taller ones still holding onto Alex so that he didn’t run off again. When they were nearly off of the school campus entirely, they stopped to catch their breaths. 

“Wait,” Laf exclaimed before falling to the ground. “I. Need. To breathe.” 

“That was… some show… you put on,” John huffed between breaths. “I thought… they’d have to… call an… ambulance… for Thomas.” Alexander merely chuckled. 

“No, seriously dude,” Hercules called over from where he was standing, the long run not seeming to have fazed him at all. “You totally went off on that dick. And you just… argued with him.” Hercules gave a breathy laugh. “Most people wouldn’t have even been able to look him in the face.”

“Well,” Alexander replied, as unfazed by the sprint as the muscular teenager standing beside him. Apparently, he was more fit than anyone gave him credit for. “He sounded like an idiot. I felt that it was my civic duty to correct him.” The three other boys laughed at this. 

“Okay then, Mr. Civic Duty,” Laf said as they dragged themselves off of the grass. “Do you mid giving us a real name, or are we just gonna know you as the kid who, how do you say, beat the living shit out of Jefferson?”

Alexander walked over to the French teen and stuck his hand out to them. “I’m Alexander. Alexander Hamilton. And you are…?” 

Hercules and Lafayette looked at each other, recognition spreading slowly across their faces. After a few seconds of this, they broke out in laughter. “Do you want the long version of it?” Laf asked, to which Alexander nodded nervously. He heard John sigh and began regretting his choice, but it was too late to turn back. “The name’s Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette. Most people call me Lafayette,” They giggled at the confused look that crossed Alexander’s face. 

“Oh, come on Laf. Be nice to the kid,” Hercules said, placing an arm around their waist. “Sorry about them. They can be a bit… well, you’ll see.” The stocky man took Alexander’s hand, which was still extended towards Lafayette. “The name’s Hercules Mulligan. Most people call me Herc or Mulligan and, I swear, if you call me a Disney character, you will get punched in the face.” 

Alexander chuckled. “Duly noted,” He looked over at the familiar freckled face. “Oh, it’s you,” he smiled, walking over to the boy, who was currently frozen in his place. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

John stared at Alexander’s face for a few seconds before realizing what the boy had said. “Oh, uh, Laurens. J-John Laurens,” John heard his two best friends trying to cover their laughter behind him, and he silently cursed himself for stuttering. 

“Well, my dear Laurens, I do believe I have you to thank for pulling me out of their before Washington showed up,” Alexander gave a small bow as he reached down and grabbed John’s hand, lifting it to his face so that he could plant a small kiss on it. “It truly is an honor to make your acquaintance.” Alex straightened back up and took a few steps in the direction of the school. “I believe I must be going, however. I have Mr. Reynolds next period, and he simply despises me.” Alexander gave a small bow to the group of friends before taking off in a jog. “Don’t be strangers,” He called out behind him. John watched his back until the boy was inside of the school building. He still couldn’t seem to be able to get his legs to work. 

“Great,” he heard Herc say behind him. “Now the idiot is gonna be catatonic all day.” That seemed to break him from his stupor as he reached around to smack the boy. 

“Come on,” He said, a blush rising on his cheeks that he knew made his freckles stand out even more. “We shouldn’t be late for class either.” 

\- - - 

Alexander glanced down at his swollen fists before shoving them back in his pockets. The last thing he needed was for Principal Washington, whose office he now sat in, to see them. It would be as incriminating as a shirt that said, “I publicly humiliated and attacked that jackass Jefferson and I don’t give two shits about it.” Now that Alexander thought about it, he decided that he would actually enjoy owning a shirt that said those exact words. 

“I’m guessing you know why I called you out of class,” Alexander turned to see the principal walking into his office, closing the door behind him. “That was some stunt you pulled, young man.”

Alexander smiled sweetly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir,” He said, feigning innocence. Washington audibly sighed. 

“Son,” the man started, reaching his hand towards Alexander, to which the boy flinched away from. If Washington noticed, he didn’t say anything. He simply laid his hand back on his desk. “Look, whatever happened to Jefferson, I’m sure he deserved it.” Alexander was taken aback by this. “Yes, I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. That boy gets on my nerves more than anyone else at this school.” Washington sighed again and rested his forehead on one of his hands. “But I can’t just let kids beat each other up without any consequences.” Washington looked back at the small boy sitting, almost proudly, in the chair in front of his desk. “But you seem like a good kid,” he complied. “I’m gonna let you off with a warning and a call to your parents.” 

At the last part of the sentence, Alexander deflated a little bit. He would have preferred a hundred community hours over a call home. But he knew better than to defy the principal. “Thank you, sir,” he said, inching forward in his seat, itching to get out of the office and back to his class. “Is that all?”

Washington stood up as Alexander followed suit. “Yes,” he said. “But if you show up in my office again, you are going to be facing something more serious than a call home.” Washington opened the door and held it for the boy. “I meant what I said, Hamilton. You seem like a good kid. Don’t waste that.” 

Alexander smiled at the man as he walked by him. “Don’t worry,” he exclaimed. “I am not throwing away my shot.” 

As soon as Alex was out of the front office, he was racing back to his class. School was almost over, and he wanted to make the last few hours last. He was not looking forward to going home that day. 

\- - -

John listened to Hercules and Lafayette laughing as the three walked down the street to Laf’s house. They had all planned to go over to have a Harry Potter marathon after school, (Herc had never seen the movies), which John had initially been excited for. But now, all he could seem to think about was the dark-haired boy that had come plowing into his life like a hurricane. He couldn’t stop thinking about how the shorter boy had seemed so… big when he was arguing, or how quick he was to defend his parents’ honor. John couldn’t stop feeling the boy holding his hand; it still felt warm from where he had kissed it. John was so deep in thought that he barely noticed his friends trying to talk to him. 

“Earth to Freckle-face, earth to Freckle-face,” Herc was saying. “Do you read, Freckle-face? Please respond.” To which Laf was cracking up. 

“Don’t you understand, mon ami?” They stage-whispered to Herc. “Our dear tache de rousseur is thinking about the petit lion.” Laf put their arm around John’s shoulders. “You are thinking about how you would, how you say, woo him, no?” Laf and Herc started making kissing noises at him. 

“You guys are the worst,” John said, laughing to try to cover up the blood that was rushing to his cheeks. “Why am I even your friend?”

“Because you love us,” Herc replied. 

“Says you,” John shot back. “But, if you were to ask me, I’d say I was only hanging out with you guys because of the- hey buddy, watch where you’re going!” John yelled at some kid as they pushed through the three friends. But when the kid turned around, John’s throat went dry. 

“Ah, petit lion, it is you!” Laf said cheerfully as they walked up to Alexander and draped their arm across his shoulders. “We were just talking about you and how you should come join us at my house to, how you say, Netflix and Chill?” Herc laughed heartily and John blushed harder than he had ever blushed in his life, which is really saying something. John had this bad habit of getting himself into strangely awkward situations. 

“Y-you were?” Alex asked, confused about whether or not the kid knew what the phrase actually meant. Brushing off his embarrassing stutter, the boy leaned into Lafayette’s shoulder. “Well,” he said. “That is definitely a generous offer. But I’m afraid I would try to keep Laurens all to myself, and you wouldn’t be able to have any fun.” Alexander winked suggestively at John, to which the boy turned a shade that Alex had trouble placing. It was somewhere between scarlet and tomato red. Then Alex looked down at his watch. “Oh shit,” he cursed as he ducked out from underneath the French kid’s arm. He was already late. “I really have to go now.” Alexander took a few steps backward. “And, thanks again for the offer. I’ll be sure to keep you up on it the next time.” With that, the boy turned around and resumed running. John noticed that he always seemed to be rushing to get places. And how good he looked from behind. 

“Well, mon ami,” Laf sighed dejectedly. “I tried for you. I really did.” They thought for a second. “And, by the way, what did the petit lion mean when he said he’d be keeping you all to himself?” John, against all laws of science, blushed even harder. Hercules, on the other hand, just laughed again. 

“Laf?” Hercules asked once he had calmed down a bit. 

“Yes, mon ami?” 

“Don’t ever change.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If i made any mistakes, please tell me. I reread this so many times, but sometimes it takes a fresh set of eyes to see where you messed up. Sorry if this one is short. I just get scared whenever i write long chapters.


	4. honestly its kind of draining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jefferson and Alex argue again; Alex hides some mysterious bruises; John worries about his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do believe i am addicted to writing this story. I cant seem to take a break from it.

Alexander stood with his face in his open locker; he was nervous to walk around school. The jeans could cover the marks on his leg, the shirt could cover the bruises on his wrists, and even the tattered old scarf that he had found at thrift store contributed to hiding the necklace of bruises around his throat. But there was nothing that could have hidden the large purple splotches on his cheek. There were no clothes he could have worn to hide them and no amount of make-up could have masked them, so the boy was resigned to bear the mark of the bastard orphan. He was determined to get through his day without attracting the attention of others. This feat, however, would have been a challenge even to the average person, and Alexander was anything but. No, he held his head up high and stared down anyone who might try to look at him wrong. Unfortunately, this worked in stark contrast to his attempts to go by unnoticed. 

“Well, if it isn’t the basket-case from the Caribbean,” Alex heard from behind him. Turning around, he laid eyes on the last person he expected to see picking a fight with him. Again. 

“Thomas,” he said, fake cheerfulness lacing his voice, barely masking the underlying disdain he felt for the fuzzy-headed boy that stood before him. “I was sure that you would have been out for a few more days, if not for the punches, then at least to give your pride some time to scab over before you let me pick at it again.” Alexander looked Jefferson up and down, trying to gauge how much damage he had dealt the boy. Other than a small bruise on the jaw, a black eye, and a slight limp, Jefferson seemed to be fine. Alexander cursed silently for not aiming more for the face. 

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, boy,” Jefferson sneered, wiping invisible dust off of one of his shoulders. “Your poorly thought-out insults barely left a scratch.” Alex felt his face heat up ever so slightly as Jefferson raked his eyes up and down his body, coming to rest on the bruises on his face. “Well, what do we have here? Were you picking a fight with someone else, too?” Jefferson held one of his hands to his chest, the other wiping a fake tear from his eye, a look of faux-hurt settling on his features. “You wound me, Alexander. I thought we had something special.”

Alexander scoffed. “The only thing special about you and I is how far my shoe can fit up your ass-” The crowd that had been forming around the two boys erupted into chaos. Suddenly, a familiar face pushed through the throng of students. 

“Mon petit lion!” Alexander turned at the sound of the overly cheerful French accent just in time for its owner to fling themselves onto him, enveloping him in a near-suffocating hug. “It is, how you say, funny to see you here.” Lafayette smiled and winked at Alexander as John and Hercules came up behind them.

“Come on, Laf,” Herc chuckled. “Give the kid some room to breathe.” Herc yanked the lanky French kid away from Alex and trapped them under his own arm while John directed his attention to the bigger threat at the moment. 

“Jefferson?” the freckled boy asked. “I think you took a wrong turn. The circus sideshow is a few miles south of here.” 

“Ah, John, don’t get the kid’s hopes up,” Herc smiled. “You know the circus would never accept him. I mean, sure, he’s got the face to go and stand with the bearded lady and the donkey-faced man, but other than that, he’s totally useless. I bet he couldn’t even dress himself in the mornings.”

“That’s why I have people that do it for me,” Jefferson retorted. 

“You see?” Herc asked, not looking at Jefferson once. “With that terrible attitude, he’d be dropped in a week.”

“Eh, I’d give him three days at the most,” Laf chimed in. 

“Not even,” John finished, shaking his head sadly. With a final scowl in their direction, Jefferson strutted off, the rest of the crowd dispersing once they saw that this argument wouldn’t escalate like the last one had. Alexander couldn’t believe it. Somebody had taken his side. Somebody had fought for him. He knew that kindness such as this came at a price, but if this was the feeling he would get when somebody helped him, then he was more than willing to pay the check when it came due. 

“You guys,” Alexander began. “You guys… stood up for me.” Alex could barely wrap his mind around the fact. He didn’t deserve it, right? How could he? All he had done for these kids was nearly get them in trouble and turn down their offers to hang out. 

“Well, isn’t that what friends do?” John asked, looking at the boy, concern written on his face at the sight of the bruises. Alexander was perplexed. 

“Friends?” The word felt foreign in the boy’s mouth, like it was a new language that he had never even heard of before.

“Isn’t that what we are?” Herc asked, following John’s example and leaning towards Alex to better see his face. 

“I-I guess,” Alexander looked down at the linoleum floors. “It’s just… I’ve never had a group of friends before,” he said quietly. “I promise that I’ll make y’all proud.” He smiled at them before backing up a few steps, getting ready to make his leave. John, however, reached out and grabbed his hand to keep the boy from getting away. 

“Well, why don’t you come walk with us?” He asked. “We can make sure that Jefferson doesn’t keep on mess-” John looked down at Alexander’s wrist and the bruises that stained them. “Alexander? What are these?” 

Alexander’s smile fell as he tugged back his arm and pulled his sleeve down to his hand. “Nothing, my dear Laurens. They are nothing at all,” Alexander smiled again, but it didn’t really reach his eyes. It was fake, a mask, and a flimsy one at that. It wouldn’t fool John. 

“C’mon, Alexander,” the boy said. “What’s going on with-”

“I really must go now,” Alexander cut John off and started to walk away once more. “Thank you guys so much for helping me… again.” Alexander chuckled. “May we meet again, my Dearest Laurens.” With that, Alexander gave a small bow, turned away from the three concerned students, and took off down the nearly empty hall in his usual rushed manner. John moved to chase after him, but a firm hand from his friend kept him from leaving his place.

“He’ll come to us when he’s ready, John,” Hercules sighed. He wanted to chase after Alexander just as much as John did, but he knew that it might only serve to scare the boy off more. “Give him time.”

“I’m afraid that our friend is right, mon ami,” Lafayette said to John after seeing the dejected look cross his face. “The petit lion needs time and space. We have to give it to him.” They put a comforting hand on John’s shoulder, right on top of Hercules’. 

John sighed, defeated. He knew his friends were right. He knew he needed to back off of the boy with the chocolate eyes. Hell, he had only known him for a total of two days. But that fact didn’t stop him from worrying. He just didn’t want to wait too long and end up losing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, i wrote a short chapter. i'm just gonna stop apologizing for it.
> 
> PRESIDENT JOHN QUINCY ADAMS HAD A PET ALLIGATOR THAT HE KEPT IN THE WHITE HOUSE THAT WAS A GIFT TO HIM FROM NONE OTHER THAN OUR VERY OWN MARIE-JOSEPH PAUL YVES ROCH GILBERT DU MOTIER DE LAFAYETTE, MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE. Just thought you should know that. 
> 
> I have a question for you: on a scale of Aaron Burr to Phantom of the Opera Overture, how dramatic are you?


	5. mental asphyxiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, its a short chapter. I hit a bit of writer's block, but i really wanted to write something, so i just... yeah. this happened. 
> 
> I hope you like it. and if i made any mistakes anywhere, please please please let me know so that i can fix them. thank you so much.
> 
> Also, for some reason, whenever i post a new chapter,it keeps putting the end notes from the first chapter. i have no idea why. Does anyone know how to fix that?

John woke up to a violent buzzing coming from his phone. Looking through his window, he could see that it was still dark outside. His clock confirmed his suspicions: It was one in the morning. With a loud groan, he turned over to the desk beside his bed and picked up his phone. He had 32 messages. 

Fuckyourbaguettes: mon ami, what is the most inspiring thing I have ever said to you?

LOCOPARENTIS: “Don’t be an idiot”

LOCOPARENTIS: changed my life 

Fuckyourbaguettes: omg lol

Turtleboii: jfc you guys it’s 1 in the fucking am. Go flirt somewhere else

Fuckyourbaguettes: You wound me, mon tache de rousseur. 

Turtleboii: what does that even mean?

Fuckyourbaguettes: wouldn’t you like to know ;) 

Turtleboii: seriously, why am I even friends with you?

LOCOPARENTIS: because without us, you’d have no one to talk to about the love of your life

Fuckyourbaguettes: and without me, you’d be dressing like the pits of fashion every day. I keep you looking, how you say, fly as hell. 

Turtleboii: I hate both of you 

LOCOPARENTIS: we love you too 

Fuckyourbaguettes: oh, by the way, did either of you complete that assignment we had in Mr. Reynold’s class? 

Turtleboii: …

LOCOPARENTIS: …

Fuckyourbaguettes: ha ha. It’s due tomorrow. 

Fuckyourbaguettes: see? Without me, you both would be failing school. 

John turned his phone off and set it back on his desk. He’d worry about school when the sun came up. For now, he would get some sleep. 

It turns out, however, that doing that would require actually falling asleep, which John’s body seemed determined to not let him do. He rolled over countless time, took off his blankets, pulled them back over himself, counted sheep until he was somewhere in the late two hundreds, but nothing was working. He just couldn’t fall asleep. 

“Stupid fucking French people with their stupid fucking texting,” he mumbled as he dragged himself out of bed and turned on the lamp on his desk. His feet shivered on the cold ground as he walked to his backpack and pulled out his sketchbook. Whenever he couldn’t sleep, he would draw. And right now, he knew exactly what was going to be taking up the next page in the book he was holding. 

Sitting back on his bed, he busied himself with the charcoal pencil he was holding. With slow, deliberate movements, he planned out the entire drawing on his paper. It would consist of a head and a pair of shoulders. He moved onto the face, carefully drawing each feature: the round nose, the crooked smile, the hint of peach-fuzz growing around the mouth. He didn’t draw the eyes yet, however, as he wanted to save them for last. Next came the hair in all of its shoulder-length, messy beauty. The narrow shoulders took John a bit longer than he expected, as he was trying to portray all of the stubbornness that their owner most obviously contained. Finally, it was time for the most beautiful aspect of the portrait. 

John waited a moment before he began the task of drawing the eyes. He had always thought that they were the hardest part of a face, as it was always a challenge to get them to show the life that he wanted them to, but now… now he felt as if they would prove to be nearly impossible. The eyes he wanted to draw were like none he had ever seen before. They erupted with power and strength, yet bridled a look of worry, almost fear, as if a single move could cause everything around them to come crashing down. They were the eyes of a fighter, a warrior, someone who had been to hell and back and could still bring themselves to see the good in others, even if they couldn’t see it in themselves. People say that eyes are windows to the soul, but when John imagined these eyes, he was sure they weren’t. He knew they were doors. And these doors were wide open, ready to be explored. 

John stared at the picture he had made, and Alexander Hamilton stared back. It was near-identical, from the stubborn jut of his chin to the fires in his eyes. It took John’s breath away, as if he couldn’t believe he had made it. He felt like he could stare at it for hours, committing to memory the beautiful face of the boy on his paper, but, looking at his clock, he knew he shouldn’t. It was almost three in the morning, and he had school in a few hours. Setting his book to the side, John turned off his light and laid back down in his bed. His last thought that night was of the boy with the fiery eyes that he would get to see when he woke up.


	6. flower crowns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it has taken me so long to update. I have been hitting a lot of bumps in life recently. I'll try to update more regularly.

The next three weeks flew by for Alexander. He somehow managed to avoid Jefferson (mostly) and didn’t get into any more fights. He stayed quiet in his classes and avoided run-ins with Washington. The man was nice, but Alex knew he didn’t want to be on his bad side. At lunch he sat with John, Lafayette, and Hercules, which is always a recipe for a good time. 

“Guys, I know none of you really have good parents, and I know that the holidays are coming up, and they can be a hard time,” Herc said one day. “So I have made a decision.” He looked at each of the boys in turn. “I will be your parents now.” The other three boys started laughing uncontrollably. 

Between laughs, Alexander said, “Herc, you are literally only a year older than the rest of us and-,” 

“I AM YOUR PARENTS NOW,” Hercules cut him off. 

“Are you our mom or our dad?” John asked. 

“YES,” Herc replied, quickly being followed by another round of laughter. “Alex, I will make sure you eat enough food and get enough sleep. John, I will make sure you get a pet turtle one day and-“

“I don’t even like turtles that much anymore,” John cut in.

“Be quiet when your parents are talking,” Herc shushed him, followed by a few chuckles around the table. “Now, as I was saying, John, I’m getting you a pet turtle. And Laf, I will personally tear apart any fuckboys that try to date you.”

Laf smiled. “Ah, mon ami, vous savez que vous etes le seul que j’aimerai jamais.”

Alex looked over at Laf suddenly. “ vraiment? Hercules? C’est trop mignon. Je l’expedie.”

Laf’s face burned red. “S’il vous plait dites-moi que vous ne parlez pas francais.” Alexander only laughed, his long hair bouncing on his shoulders. 

“Je mentirais si je disais.” The boy said. Laf groaned and laid their head on the table. John and Hercules stared on in confusion. 

“Do we even want to know what is going on?” Hercules asked. Laf’s head shot up, their eyes meeting Alexander’s and glaring at him. If looks could kill, John would have already been picking out the flowers for Alexander’s funeral. 

“Alexander Hamilton, si vous dites quelque chose, je vais enfoncer mon pied jusqu’a votre cul que vous serez en mesure de gouter mes chaussures pendant des semaines,” they growled. Alexander laughed nervously and turned to Hercules. 

“Sorry dad,” he said. “I am forbidden from speaking about it.” 

“I’m so proud of my children,” Hercules said as he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “You guys are already learning to keep secrets from me. You are the best kids a parent could ask for.” Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. The four boys stood up and pushed out of the cafeteria doors, exploding into the hallway like the ruffians that everyone knew them to be. Before they all split up to go their separate ways, John started talking.

“So I’m free this weekend,” he said. “I was wondering if you’d all like to go to the mall or something.”

“I’ll have to ask my parents, but I should be able to come,” Laf said. 

“You know I’m always up for a good time,” Herc spoke up. They all turned to look at Alexander, who was shuffling around nervously on his feet, his eyes glued to the ground. “How about you, Alex?” 

Alex looked up to the group, his face heating up. “I don’t know, guys. I have some projects to get done and a lot of homework and I just don’t know how I’d get there and I just… I don’t know.” He coughed a little at the end. 

“Alexander,” John said, a small smile gracing his face at how flustered the boy was. “Homework can wait. And if you need a ride, we can come pick you up. Hercules has his driver’s license.” Hercules nodded at that. Alexander just shifted from one foot to the other. He thought about how his projects were due, the homework he had to complete, the foster father that always seemed to be angry with him… But then he looked up and saw John’s smile. It made all of the other problems disappear, and he knew he would never say no to this.

“Ah, fuck it,” Alex laughed. “I guess I’ll come.” The other three kids began cheering. “But,” he said. “If I fail my classes, I’m blaming all of it on you guys.” They all began laughing. 

“Mon ami, with how much you work, you are never gonna have to worry about that,” Laf smiled as they began walking to their next class. “Like, ever.” Alexander chuckled as he, too, began in his own direction. 

“It’s a date, then,” Alex said. He noticed how John began blushing at the words. So, it seems, did Hercules. 

“I bet we’re all gonna have a great time,” the muscular boy said, elbowing John and raising his eyebrows at the freckled kid. “Aren’t we, John?”

“Fuck you, Mulligan,” was all he said. 

\- - -

The weekend came faster than Alexander was expecting, but he didn’t care. He was excited to spend some time with his friends outside of school. He was also nervous, though. He was going to have to sneak past his foster father, George Frederick, and go behind his back, which was sure to make him angry. Very angry. But Alexander couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences of that at the time, despite the fact that he was still sporting the aftermath of his George’s most recent outburst. The bruises that adorned his arms were hidden by long sleeves and the ones on his neck by the same ratty scarf he always used. They were easy enough to forget about. The ones on his stomach and chest, however, barked out in pain every time his shirt brushed against them. Alex wondered if, perhaps, they were more than mere bruises this time. He decided to just bear through it, resolving to have a nice day with his friends instead of worrying about himself. 

Pulling on his jacket, Alexander stepped outside into the cold air of November. The sun was shining, offering a bit of warmth to anyone brave enough to venture outside. Alex shivered a little, despite the sun on his face. Even after spending three years in New York, his body refused to acclimate to the cold that the winter always brought. It was used to the year-round heat of his Caribbean homeland. Despite this, Alex had decided to walk to the mall, which was only a few miles from his house. He planned on meeting his friends there instead of them coming to his house. He knew he would have never made it out if his foster father had seen a stranger’s car pull into the driveway. As it was, Alex was surprised he had been able to make it out of the house. Usually, George was much more alert at this time of day. 

“He’s probably still drunk,” Alex mumbled to himself, placing a hand on his chest, inhaling through his teeth sharply when he put too much pressure on the bruises that lay underneath his clothes. Deciding not to give them too much thought, Alex started walking down the road towards the mall, letting his excitement for the day take over. By the time he reached the mall and spotted his friends, he was practically beaming. As he walked up to them, he saw Laf handing Hercules a flower crown. 

“I made this earlier today,” Laf was saying. “I really hope you like it and- Oh, hey Alex.” They gave Alex a hug, and the boy tried not to scream as he felt his chest explode in pain. 

“Hey, Laf,” Alex gasped. “One question: Are those real flowers?” Laf’s face exploded in a smile. 

“Why, yes, petit lion. They are,” They answered proudly. 

“It’s beautiful, Laf,” Hercules said, blushing the tiniest bit. 

“Herc,” John said from next to the boy, “I thought you were allergic to flowers, tho-” Hercules punched him in the stomach before putting the crown on his head. He wore it proudly. 

“Fuck gender stereotypes,” he said with a smile. “AND allergies. This flower crown looks fucking amazing on me.” 

“That it does, mon ami,” Laf laughed, Alex nodding in approval next to him. 

“Je l’expedie encore totalment,” Alex whispered to Laf. They began blushing furiously. 

“Oh vraiment? Bien, je vous expedie encore et les taches de rousseur la-bas,” Laf shot back. “Vous etiez censes etre.” 

Now it was Alexander’s turn to blush. “Je ne l’aime pas comme ca,” the boy said.

“Je vois a travers tes mensonges, petit lion,” Laf laughed. Alexander sighed, knowing as well as Laf did that he had been lying. He was just scared about how obvious it must have been for Laf to see it so easily. 

“What are you two going on about now?” John asked. He looked at Alexander, but quickly looked away. Despite the fact that he saw him nearly every day, the boy’s beautiful eyes never failed to give him butterflies in his stomach. Oh, what that boy did to him. 

“Nothing,” Alex and Laf said at the same time. Herc laughed and threw an arm around John’s shoulders. 

“Those two will be the death of us, freckles,” He said. John laughed as well. 

“You got that right, flower crown,” John said, laughing again as he saw Herc blush. The boy brushed it off though. 

“I really think I am starting to like flowers,” he said. “Sue me if you want to.” John laughed and began walking towards the doors. “You guys?” Herc asked, following after John, with Alex and Laf on his heels. “When one of you gets married, I call being the flower girl.” This elicited laughs from everyone. 

Stepping into the mall was like stepping into another world. This was the first time Alex had ever been to a shopping mall. The sight that greeted him when he stepped though the sliding glass doors was one that took his breath away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, mon ami, vous savez que vous etes le seul que j’aimerai jamais- Ah, my friend, you know you are the only one i will ever love
> 
> vraiment? Hercules? C’est trop mignon. Je l’expedie- Really? Hercules? That is so cute. I ship it. 
> 
> S’il vous plait dites-moi que vous ne parlez pas francais- please tell me that you don't speak french 
> 
> Je mentirais si je disais- I'd be lying if i said that
> 
> Alexander Hamilton, si vous dites quelque chose, je vais enfoncer mon pied jusqu’a votre cul que vous serez en mesure de gouter mes chaussures pendant des semaines- Alexander Hamilton, if you say anything, i will shove my foot so far up your ass that you'll be tasting my shoes for weeks
> 
> Je l’expedie encore totalment- i still totally ship it 
> 
> Oh vraiment? Bien, je vous expedie encore et les taches de rousseur la-bas- oh, really? well, i still ship you and freckles over there
> 
> Vous etiez censes etre- you two were meant to be 
> 
> Je ne l’aime pas comme ca- I don't like him like that
> 
> Je vois a travers tes mensonges, petit lion- i see through your lies, little lion 
> 
>  
> 
> Translations are courtesy of google translate, as i do not yet speak french. but i am taking it as a class in high school, so yeah.

**Author's Note:**

> (The story opens up to Alexander reading something he had written, just in case it was confusing to anyone.)
> 
> I really hoped you liked it! Sorry that it's kind of short. The part about the assignment for their class is actually an assignment i had for my english class (the thing Alexander read is what i wrote for the class). I had been struggling to come up with a way to start the story, so i just used this. 
> 
> Please feel free to comment or leave kudos if you liked it. I would greatly appreciate it! I'll try to update soon.


End file.
